


The undone and the divine

by vermicious_knid



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Vampire!Jack, halloween fic, jack is a vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 10:48:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16427906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vermicious_knid/pseuds/vermicious_knid
Summary: And then, it began to happen. The Change.





	The undone and the divine

Tortuga was lit up in the dark of the night, lanterns burning bright, casting a golden, sickly sheen over its drunken inhabitants. It was a busy night like any other night, and pirates, travelers, prostitutes, spies and gamblers could be found in every tavern and inn, drinking away their sorrows or celebrating found treasure.

 

Rumors circulated around the small, cramped tables of mutinies, legends and of foul beasts of the waters below. Though many of them here talked about monsters they’d witnessed on their travels, few of them actually spoke true. Curiouser still, the man who had actually seen the most was the one who was quietly drinking alone.

 

Though far from unaware of his surroundings, he watched and listened to the conversations around him with rapt attention. The best kind of news could be picked up that way, as anyone with a brain knows that rum loosens the tongue of even the most tight-lipped stranger.

 

Gibbs lifted his mug and drained the last of his drink before thumping it once onto the table, leaving a few coins for the barkeeper before he left.

 

The Black pearl, as expected, was silent as he returned. Most of the crew were still in town, and would remain there until early morning. Gibbs would have preferred to sleep off shore, but the captain was waiting.

 

And these days, it would be bad to keep him waiting.

 

He knocked on the door of the captains quarters twice, his knuckles barely grazing the old wood before the door cracked open – but there was nobody directly behind it. There was only a pitch-black darkness within. He looked down, took a deep breath before crossing the threshold, making sure to close the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

Gibbs wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed since it happened. But it was after about a year after he had regained the black pearl – standing at its helm as its rightful captain. The future was just like the sunset, glowing and promising on the horizon.

 

They had gotten wind of a possible treasure on an island near Costa rica – there was no map, but Jack said he had been there before. The island was not hard to find, and the treasure laid untouched in the bowels of an old, stranded ship from England. There were no traps, no people laying in wait.

 

But Gibbs saw the ship and did not need to see anymore. Everyone called him paranoid, like always . The treasure of gold pieces and expensive jewelry was brought on board, and nothing bad happened. The black sails waved in the wind like excited crows on their journey home, and for awhile everything stayed the same.

 

They sold or bartered most of it away, and in return they stocked up on food, alcohol and did some routine repairs to the ship. He had forgotten about his fears entirely by then.

 

And then, it began to happen. The Change.

 

Not all at once, but noticeable enough.

 

At first he was just pale – tired perhaps. But then he began to refuse food, leaving several plates untouched. He still drank heavily though, so Gibbs took that as a good sign.

He began to sleep later and later into the day – this could also be blamed on alcohol. But Jack was never one to sleep in, always first on deck. Then one day, he did not come out of his cabin at all.

 

* * *

 

 

The day after that, he had to break in – the door having been locked from the inside.

 

When he saw him slumped over the table full of maps, head down, his skin ashy and his brown eyes wide open and staring at nothing, Gibbs feared the worst. But his chest still heaved, but the breaths were shallow and barely there.

 

”What do you need?” he asked, touching his shoulder, whispering. Jack did not stir, did not answer for the longest time. Instead a horrible grimace crept over his face, like he was furious and in pain.

 

 

He stayed most of that day in bed, and Gibbs told the crew that he had a fever, though this wasn’t true. Ana-maria was the only one not convinced, the only one who went against his word and wanted to see.

 

Later, when Gibbs went to check on how Jack was doing – the sight that met him was one that was going to repeat itself in the future.

 

The room was dark, the candles on the table snuffed out. The only source of light was from the open doorway behind him. The air smelled like smoke and old wine, and something else. A chair had been knocked over. From where he stood, he could see a hand on the floor, palm upwards, fingers curled inward like a dead insect. The room was so quiet, and when he did the sign of the cross across his chest, something in the corner hissed.

 

”Merciful gods..”

 

Gibbs could only make out the lower parts of his face, his shape. The skin around his mouth was stained red, teeth covered in crimson and raw flesh. Jacks hands were shaking, holding a powerful grip around Ana-Marias now broken neck. The arm on the floor had been severed below her elbow – not by sword, but with blunt force.

 

He stood there frozen for what seemed to be an eternity, not able to comprehend what he was truly seeing. But then Jack twisted his head in his direction – and even though he could not see his eyes, he could feel them blazing in the dark. His mouth opened in a snarl, the voice coming out of him more of a wheeze, dry and menacing.

 

”SHUT THE DOOR!”

* * *

 

 

It wasn’t difficult to get rid of her body. They were still at sea, and the crew drank themselves to sleep often enough so that an additional splash in the waters around them did not wake them.

 

But it was her body. Their friend. How could he have done something like this, so viciously? He was going to ask, already thinking of somehow abandoning jack altogether once they made it to Tortuga again. This was not in their friendship, and he wanted no more part of the horrors he had witnessed.

 

But once again, he underestimated him. Forgot just how manipulative, how cunning their captain was.

 

And this new Jack, as he would come to call him, was not the same as the old. This one waited on you in the shadows, watched you without you knowing it. This one carried lies in his pocket, so easy to believe, so tailored to your fancies that it was impossible to tell when he was actually speaking the truth.

 

Gibbs had never seen the threatening side of him before, words once empty now filled with a strange sort of glee that made him nervous.

 

Before they docked at Tortuga in the dead of night (as per Jacks instructions) he cornered him once everyone else was off the ship. It was the first time he had seen him outside his cabin since the nightmare began, and it was sheer luck that the rest of the crew hadn’t seen him like this. He looked wrong, his clothes sitting strangely on his frame, his eyes darting around like a creature getting used to new surroundings. Like something new lived inside his body, adjusting to his skin.

 

”I will make sure you meet your _end_ , Joshua Gibbs, if you ever leave my crew. You have served me well in the past, and that will not stop.”

 

So he stayed, fearing what might happen if he did decide to leave.

 

At first he didn't notice that some of the crew went missing – mostly because they had been fairly new and some of them chose to leave on their own behalf for other adventures. But when Marcel did not meet him at the tavern they had agreed on only hours before, or when Pepe left his chores incomplete on the ship – he grew suspicious.

 

It finally clicked when he saw the way Jack was now looking at them. Besides the usual calculating look, there was a startling hunger there as well – intense and borderline obsessive. Making sure that nobody else heard, Gibbs spoke quietly next to his shoulder, not daring to look him in the eye.

 

”You cannot have them Jack. Not them.”

 

Next to him, Jack hums in light consideration.

 

”I suppose you are right. There are plenty other _diversions_ in town.”

 

Dark humor has always suited Jack very well.

 

* * *

 

When Gibbs tries to put it together, to understand how this happened, he thinks about how nobody else has been similarly affected – only Jack.

 

He tries to ask around about the treasure they found, about the island – but finds little to no answers. Finally he decides to ask Jack himself, of what he remembers.

 

They are sitting in the complete darkness of his quarters, because now there is rarely any light in this room, in his heart. There is only this vast darkness, the strange sounds of a beast. He dares not move to quickly when he is alone with him, instinct telling him not to encourage a predator.

 

”I think I saw a woman.” Jack suddenly says, his voice full of wonder. 

 

”A woman?”

 

”In the stranded ship, she was...there, waiting for me. Thought she was dried up, a corpse. But she latched onto me, pulled me close and then...”

 

”And then?”

 

”I crushed her brittle skull in my hands. But not before her teeth sunk into my neck.”

 

* * *

 

Gibbs learns the habits of this new captain, learns the rules the hard way. He learns that any source of sunlight, and sometimes even the light of a single candle – will set off such a cold fury that has him shaking with fear. He knows now to lock the door also from the outside, so there is no chance someone will open the door accidentally.

 

He learns that if they do plan to come ashore, it must always be to a town or a bustling city – a place where a body or two won’t be readily missed.

 

And when they board a new ship full of loot, he knows not to pay much attention to what Jack will do first. After the first time watching him, it became too much to bear. Because Jack’s main interest is no longer the gold, the loot.

 

His eyes feast upon the strangers, his pupils enlarged. Gibbs knows he will drag most of them to some unseen place, where he will tear them apart with his hands, his teeth. No regret ever crosses his tanned face, no remorse.

 

But it keeps him from eating his own crew.

* * *

 

He still walks the same way, drunken and slightly off-balance. But it feels mostly like a perverse game, masquerading as a character he’s stuck playing. Because Gibbs knows how fast he can be when nobody is looking, the precise movements of his body –sometimes almost lizard-like. Has glimpsed him in alleyways feasting on unsuspecting victims, crushing their windpipes so they cannot scream. 

 

”We are still friends, aren’t we?” Jack asks one night, into the silence. He is the only one on watch tonight, and the sea around them is calm. He stares at Jack, who stares at the ocean – with the same love for it as he has ever had, even though his eyes have now turned a hazy red color. 

 

He has no way of telling if this is another trick – sometimes he still repeats things the old Jack would say, but it is not the same at all. He says the words like they are foreign to him, the meaning lost. But he still says them, which feels significant somehow.

 

 

 


End file.
